


Lend a Hand

by SouthernBuck



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, Fluff, Funny, M/M, Mentions of Masturbation, Piss, Poison Ivy - Freeform, Sexual thoughts, Two dumbass boys, idiots doing idiot things, john has a crush, john maybe has a dick kink, just a funny little thing, morston, no-homo but secretly a little homo john marston, nothing graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:09:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28395159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SouthernBuck/pseuds/SouthernBuck
Summary: After falling in posion ivy, Arthur needs a hand with something and John is not very willing to help out.
Relationships: John Marston/Arthur Morgan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 59





	Lend a Hand

**Author's Note:**

> What is this? I do not know. But the concept made me laugh. My boyfriend in senior cycle always told a story that he got covered in poison ivy once and got an awful rash some place unsavory and it still makes me laugh to imagine. I just wanted to write some boys being dumb. I've never written morston before, I usually ship Charthur, but I read some cute fics lately and wanted to try my hand at it! Let me know what you think, maybe i'll do a few more. :D

It had been a long day but the bank job had gone decent, despite there being only two of them running it. A few cuts and scrapes here and there from stray bullets and John falling from Old Boy during their escape but no serious damage, and they’d taken nearly a thousand dollars. 

It had warranted a celebratory drink, but maybe the eight celebratory drinks following had been overkill.

The dim morning sunlight was starting to peak through the trees as they rode side by side on a slow trek home, Arthur muttering the lyrics to rhy whisky out of key, stomach warm and head light with alcohol, as John unbuttons his vest to alleviate the warmth that came with the rising sun. 

“You think that feller you left tied up in the back room escaped yet?” John asks, louder than intended, head bobbing lightly with the jogging movement of the horse. 

“Shit, I didn’t untie him?” 

“Did you intend to?”

Arthur furrows his brow a little in confusion before letting out a tipsy chuckle. “Guess it don’t matter, someone will let the bastard loose eventually. Just wanted my rope back.”

Humming a little, John scratches the back of his warm neck with a yawn. “Gettin’ too old for these all nighters”.

“I got ten years on you an’ I’m fine,” Arthur snorts back playfully, throwing him a challenging look. “Little Johnny Marston, never was able to take a few drinks without dozin’ off on the table.”

“That was one time”

Arthur only chuckles a little harder, liquor easing his usual gruffness. “Let’s stop up ahead by them bushes, I gotta take a piss.”

John snorts, shaking his head. “And I’m the one who can’t take a few drinks?”

It all happens in an instant, before Arthur even has the chance to rib the younger back. Old Boy lets out a gruff snort as the snake skirts out in front of them. Tamar rears with an aggressive whinny, throwing Arthur from her saddle before stomping hard on the poor snake.

“Shit, you alright?” John calls as the older man crashes on his side into a low lying bush with a hissed curse. 

It takes a second for Arthur to reply, he shuffles onto his hands and knees with a hiss and looks about to grunt that he’s fine before a sudden string of curses leave his mouth, stumbling to his feet awkwardly and shaking his hands.

John squints as he hops down from his horse and stumbles over, “What? You piss yourself or something?”

“Fucking poison ivy!” The man spits back, and the second he turns to face John it becomes obvious. His hands are bright red as well as his face and neck, lips taut in a pained frown. He moves his hand on instinct to rub dirt from his eye and thankfully John is quick enough to catch his arm.

“Shit, jesus. Don’t, you’re covered in it. Don’t touch anything you’ll make it worse” He hisses, moving Arthur's hand back to his side by force. “We ain’t nowhere near a river, you gonna be able to ride back to camp like this?”

Arthur screws up his nose in frustration, starting to scratch unhappily at his sore hands to try to alleviate the growing intense itch under his skin. “Gonna have to, ain’t got much choice. Shit, Grimshaw is gonna have a field day lecturing me about this one.”

“Hosea too probably,” John teases lightly as he grabs Old Boy’s saddle horn to hoist himself back up. “Try not to scratch it”.

“Fuckin’ itches what am I supposed to do?” Arthur grunts, moving over to give Tamars thick neck a pat as she calms, the large black shire still pacing on the spot impatiently. “Christ, of all the places to damn fall”.

“You got any salve in that bag of yours?”

“I got two cans of peaches and half a bottle of rum,” The older grunts, shifting next to the horse as he scratches at his wrists, making no move to climb back on. “Just chop my damn hands off, fuck it’s like being on fire”.

John gestures up to the horse with his chin. “C’mon, we’ll get back quick, Hosea will have somethin’ for the pain.”

Pausing, Arthur shifts again next to the horse, throwing John a light glare. “I still gotta piss.”

“Can’t it wait ‘till we get back? Jesus,” John grunts impatiently.

“Even if we ride fast it’s a good two hours back, you ever tried riding a horse on a full bladder? Ain’t fun,” the older hisses, frustration growing as he rubs his sore hands against his jeans to try to ease the itch. 

“Well just go then but hurry it up,” John grunts, tilting his hat down as the sunlight starts to assault his eyes. 

Arthur throws him a sarcastic glare, holding up his red raw hands. “I’m covered in fuckin’ poison, Marston! My hands feel like they’re on fire, you want my dick to be on fire too?”

“Well whaddya want me to do about it?! I ain’t got no water,” He snips back, shrugging at Arthur with a grimace, brow furrowing in concern over what he knew was about to be asked. “...No way.”

Arthur just narrows his eyes a little more, growling quietly as he steps back from his horse, shifting from foot to foot slowly. “C’mon, it’ll take like thirty seconds.”

“No, no, absolutely not. You’re on your own figurin’ this one out,” John huffs back incredulously, holding his hands up like he’s just been threatened with a gun. 

“Christ just be a man and help me out here Marston, you owe me this much after all the times I’ve saved your damn ass!” Arthur snaps irritably, starting to claw at the growing rash on his neck, “You think I wanna ask? It’s urgent.”

Climbing off Old Boy, John skirts around the back of the horse to put a barrier between them, face feeling flushed as he tugs his hat down further with a growl. “Fuck off, Morgan. Ain’t touchin’ your dick, I don’t give a shit how urgent it is.”

“Why you gotta make a big deal outta this? It ain’t that weird, it’s just one feller helpin’ out another feller in need,” Arthur grunts, patience wearing thin as he glances around seemingly in search of another option, discomfort clear on his features as he leans against Tamar once more with a small groan. “Fine, whaddya want? I’ll take your guard duty for a whole week,”

“You never do guard duty,” John grunts in mild amusement, lowering his hands as he shifts uneasily. He rubs at the growing redness of his cheeks with a frown, unsure why the very idea of taking part in this was making him feel so awkward. He’d seen Arthur naked before, hell he’d seen half the camp naked, weren’t much privacy living the way they did. Sure, he’d taken notice of the fact the older man was well endowed, he was sure everyone at least noticed it. He never had an issue seeing it before. Why the thought of touching Arthurs manhood made him feel so hot under the collar was beyond him. “Shit, fine, whatever. Just, you can’t tell no-one ‘bout this. Ever.”

“Oh yeah, cuz I was plannin’ on going back and relaying this story around the damn campfire,” Arthur hisses sarcastically, though obvious relief washes over his face as John follows him over to the bushes. 

As the older man stands awkwardly, scratching at his rashy fingers, John dithers behind him uncomfortably. “I dunno how to….what do I do?”

“Just fuckin’ get it out and aim like you’d do on yourself, dumbass,” Arthur growls, pressing his hands against a tree trunk in front of them just to have something to do with them that wasn’t scratching them raw. 

The younger grunts nervously as he moves his hands to work at the buttons of Arthur’s trousers, “You seriously can’t wait ‘till we get back?” he growls, loosening the buttons and reaching in to work at the buttons on the man’s red union suit, pausing awkwardly and pulling his hands back when the limb comes into view. 

“Christ, I don’t even know if I can wait for you to fuckin’ get it out, you mind just gettin’ on with it?” Arthur grumbles almost desperately as one booted foot moves to rub the back of his ankle, teeth grit as he forces his sore hands to remain on the tree trunk rather than grabbing himself like he very much wants to do right now. When the younger man still doesn’t move he lets out a frustrated growl, “Marston!”

“Alright, alright! Christ-”. John hesitantly reaches in with one hand, taking the older man’s larger dick and fumbling to get it out of his pants. The man starts pissing a torrent the second he’s free and John curses as he fumbles to aim so they don’t get their boots splattered. 

All he can think of is that it’s warm, and larger than his own by almost an inch. Arthur lets out a quiet relieved curse as he tilts his head to the sky, and John bites his lip to quell the heat growing in his lower belly.

It ain’t that different to taking a leak himself, if he closes his eyes. Though despite his best efforts his mind can’t help but wander to all the times he’d taken himself into the forest around camp to take a piss and ended up blowing off a little steam while he was out there. His face feels hot. His chest nearly touches Arthur’s back from their close proximity and he feels the heat radiating off him. The dick weighs heavily in his hand and he can’t help but imagine what it would be like to give it a few experimental pumps. 

John’s breath catches a little in his throat as he feels his own cock twitch to life, hardening a little in his trousers as he shifts his hips backwards to make the bulge less obvious. Shit. Why was he turned on by just the feeling of the man’s dick in his hand? He was just helping him take a piss, he weren’t even looking at it.

His thoughts are interrupted at the sound of Arthur letting out a quiet groan as he finishes, looking a little breathless as he leans his face against his outstretched arm. “Christ, I needed that.”

“You mind keeping the weird noises down until my hand is off your dick,” John huffs, giving the man a shake before tucking him back into his pants. He feels almost strangely hesitant to let go of the warm appendage, gulping as his fingers slip away, mind racing to try to think of literally anything else right now to ease the tightness of his pants. 

“Sorry,” Arthur grunts, moving to get the buttons himself once John has secured his union suit, his own face tinged a little pink. He makes himself decent, scratching at his neck irritably and puffing out an awkward breath as he glances back to the horses. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Seriously, never mention this again,” John sighs, rubbing his hand on his jeans to try to rid it of the residual warmth and shifting slightly. 

“C’mon let’s get back, I’m itching to wash this damn poison off,” Arthur grunts, hiding a small smile as he turns back to mount his horse. “Unless you need to take a break first,”

John winces at the knowing tone in the man’s voice, grimacing slightly with a quiet curse under his breath as the heat in his lower regions continues to torment him. Glancing at the older man he’s grateful to see him looking in the other direction. “Yeah I’m gonna….since we’re stopped anyway…. I’ll just be a minute.”

“I’ll ride up ahead, give you some privacy, take all the time you need,” Arthur snorts, a teasing lilt in his voice as he spurs Tamar into a slow trot. “Just stay back from the damn ivy. Don’t wanna get it some place unsavoury”.


End file.
